Rumour Has It
by kurgaya
Summary: IchiHitsu - oneshot/drabble - Nobody had ever told Toshiro that reincarnation worked in funny ways. Humour.


**Notes: **This is in **_no way_** linked to 'Encore, Encore' and it's coming sequels. But it's still a reincarnation fic, because I love them :) Tōshirō is quite OOC in parts, but this _is_ a reincarnation story and he's not going to be _exactly the same_ in every life. Plus, he's thirteen in this story, and teenagers are teenagers~

Once again, another thanks to **Yellta** - Oh, by the way, don't take this _too seriously_ :P

* * *

**Rumour Has It**

* * *

It would take Tōshirō Kurosaki ten years before he realized he was looking in the wrong place.

From the age of three his understanding of the world had been _different_ from what it should have been, his previous life as the prodigious captain rubbing off on him in more ways than one. His parents had never been able to explain his vast knowledge of _just about everything_, which wasn't exactly surprising, so they had just played along when he sprouted the name of a random Emperor from the Feudal Era, or when he asked (very politely) if he could have a pencil and a piece of paper - lined, not blank - to work out how much sleep he _actually needed_ as a toddler so he could spend more time reading Lord of The Rings.

They were his loving parents, however, and they were incredibly proud of him, and Tōshirō couldn't help but dedicate some of his time to being the three year old he actually was. They spoiled him. And he couldn't deny that he liked being adored.

It was a little bit weird though, having to respond to 'Hinata' instead of 'Tōshirō', the name that had been planted inside of his soul long ago and grown into the tree that Ichigo had allowed it to be. Nevertheless, Hinata wasn't a bad name, but he much preferred the idiotic 'Tōsh' that only his husband was permitted to say.

_"How's your homework going Hina-chan?" _asked the voice when Tōshirō had answered the call. His mobile had been left discarded by his thigh while he lounged about on the living room floor, but it had attracted his attention when it had started sprouting the BBC Sherlock theme tune. His parents were currently out shopping, so they were either worried that he had burned the house down or had something important to ask him.

Tōshirō hoped it was the latter, because him burning down the house was probably the more likely of the two. He could read The Lord of the Rings in a day, sing songs in French, and work his way through A-level work, but the oven was still something totally beyond him.

He scowled on the other end of the phone, his mother's sweet voice reminding him of the one problem with his current name.

It was shortened to Hina-chan, and he _hated_ it.

"Fine mum," he said as any twelve - very almost thirteen - year old child say, the PS3 controller sitting warm in his lap, and the TV on mute. "You know I never have any problems."

His mother laughed down the line, and Tōshirō couldn't help but smile despite the creepy grin on Barthandelus's face staring at him, frozen in the 'pause' mode of the game. "Hey mum - you wouldn't know how to play Final Fantasy would you?"

_"Is it giving you trouble again son?"_ asked his father, and the teen rolled his eyes.

"Not usually," he mumbled, not wanting to admit that the Boss was, in fact, kicking his ass. By now he would have normally resorted to searching through Google for hints on beating the obstacle in the game, but his laptop had died a few days ago and refused to turn back on. "Am I getting a new laptop for my birthday?"

Both of his parents laughed, and Tōshirō wondered what had been funny about his question.

_"You might be,"_ his father said slyly, which probably meant he wasn't.

"You know, I may have to live with Ryuu if I don't get one..." he warned lightly, having no idea how his parents didn't realize just how important his computer had been to him. "His mum'll be fine with it, she loves me."

For some reason this made his father laugh even harder, his voice pounding voice gradually growing more distant as he walked away from the phone to collect himself. _"Honey_," replied his mother. _"Ryuunosuke's mum hasn't just gone out and bought you the most amazing birthday present ever."_

Tōshirō made a face. "Ergh, mum, don't call him that. You make it sound like he's in trouble - and what birthday present?"

_"Now you know I can't tell you that."_

It had been worth a try, he thought. He could always examine the size, shape, and sound of the box later for any clues on what his parents were trying to hide from him. Still; "Bet it's not a laptop."

_"I always knew you were clever Hina-chan."_

The phone call ended not much later with his mother promising they'll be back soon, and Tōshirō attempted his game one more time before giving up and turning it off. Not willing to mull over how much he _sucked_ at Final Fantasy XIII, the teen wandered upstairs and entered his room in search of something to do. He crossed off the date - May the ninth - on his dragon calendar and rummaged around under his bed for the box that kept all of his art equipment. He wasn't a fantastic drawer, which disappointed him, but he guessed the curse of being a scientific genius was that paints and pencils hated him. He pulled out his sketchpad and threw himself onto his bed, sighing as he flipped open the first page.

The vibrant orange hair of his lover greeted him like the sun greeted the earth every morning.

Tomorrow was his thirteenth birthday, marking ten years since he had become aware of the missing half of his heart. Though, it wasn't until he had turned eight that he had actively started looking for Ichigo - before then the memories and the meanings had been a little bit hazy in his young brain.

He continued smiling over his doodles, turning the pages to reveal sketches of Hyorinmaru, his division, and his latest masterpiece; the garden in which they had married. He had captured Isshin's expression rather well if he could say so himself, the hyperactive man standing behind his son and sobbing tremendously.

Tōshirō chuckled at the memory and shut the book. He rolled onto his side and groaned at the sight of his Math homework lying half-complete on his desk.

As clever as he was, homework was a bore.

* * *

The tenth day of the fifth month dawned quietly that year. Considering it was a Sunday, the children of the world lounged around until eleven, unwilling to crawl out of bed and face whatever the sun was due to bring them that day.

Tōshirō, per usual, was up at eight. He did, however, spend fifteen minutes longer in the shower than he normally would, and instead of hiding himself in a sweater and jeans, he slipped on a t-shirt and fought with his favourite pair of three-quarter length cargo trousers until they submitted to his feet. The terrible sound of metal vibrating against wood rang around the room as he brushed down his hair, and he checked his phone to find that he only had one birthday text, and not the normal ten that he was usually bombarded with. But this wasn't any shock to him - his friends were as lazy as lions.

And so were his parents, it seemed, as he served himself a very lonely breakfast.

Munching through his cereal, Tōshirō reached for the TV remote from its home on the little table beside the sofa, only to find that it wasn't there. He frowned, muttering "Great," and put down his bowl and spoon where the remote should have been.

He got up, took two steps towards the TV, and then tripped over something small, furry, and _moving_.

His yell of pain went unheard by his parents, but the puppy chewing on the TV remote yelped and shot off into the kitchen. Tōshirō cursed and picked himself up from the carpet, his nose throbbing and his brain going haywire.

Last time he had checked, they didn't own a dog. He turned to glare at it, confused and unimpressed, and it barked at him, trotting over happily with its tail wagging at an impossible miles per hour behind it. "Not so scared anymore, are you?" Tōshirō scoffed, as the golden retriever pup nudged his leg and licked his hand. It barked again, pleased with this assessment, and demanded with its puppy-dog eyes to be picked up.

Tōshirō had never been a fan of animals, but something about its chocolate eyes made him melt.

"Alright then, you stupid little thing," he muttered, scooping the puppy up. "Who do you belong to then?" he asked, noticing the collar and dog tag it wore.

For all his brains, Tōshirō didn't really understand the implication of the puppy being_in their house_ until he saw their home number scratched into the back of the dog tag.

For the second time that day, he swore violently.

_"Mum!"_ he yelled up the stairs just moments later, the puppy wiggling in his grasp. _"This isn't funny you know! _I asked for a laptop,_not a _**_puppy_**_!"_

The groan from his parents' bedroom indicated that his shouting had done the job. His father stuck his unruly mop of hair out of the door a minute later, his eyes half-shut and a yawn on his lips. "What is it, Hinata?" he asked, as if he had _no idea_ what the problem was.

Tōshirō stormed up the stairs and shoved the puppy into his father's face.

_"This!"_ he shrieked. "This is not a laptop!"

His father blinked, staring at the dog. "Someone's having a slow morning," he mumbled, and his wife snorted loudly from inside the bedroom. "I'm glad we've both agreed that a puppy is not a -"

"Why did you get me a puppy? I don't want a puppy!"

The puppy whined, seemingly aware that it was on the verge of being disowned.

"Oh come on, Hinata, dogs are a man's best friend!" his father argued, more awake now and much, much more amused with the helpless look on his son's face. "Every boy has always wanted a puppy! And your mum and I figured that, now you're a teenager, you're old enough for a little more responsibility." He ruffled up his son's hair, grinning. "Your first task is to name him! And you better start toilet-training him today too, or else your bedroom's gonna _stink_."

The look that fell on Tōshirō's face resembled that of the time he learned that Yumichika was not the _only_ gay man with a kink that spelled embarrassing disaster for his partner.

Ichigo, of course, had been someone he could deny.

A puppy was not.

* * *

While some say 'practice makes perfect', Tōshirō had never known how true 'there's no time like the present' was until he was introduced to his crash-course in looking after a puppy. His parents had been _very kind_ and bought him a laptop as well (though most of the money had come from his grandparents) and half an hour after tripping over the troublesome ball of fur, the teenage was surfing the net for a puppy survival guide.

Said puppy was having a delightful time chewing on a rubber ball Tōshirō had found in his desk drawer. It was keeping him quiet, and Tōshirō wasn't going to complain.

The internet was somewhat helpful with his new _mammoth_ task, but eventually, he grew tired of reading up on other people's woes and spun around in his office chair. This distracted the puppy long enough for them to lock eyes; he frowned his usual frown, and the puppy thumped his tail on the floor before returning to the rubber ball.

"What am I gonna name you, huh?" he asked aloud, resting his chin in his hand. "Kazu?"

The puppy didn't even twitch. Honestly, Tōshirō hadn't really expected it to. It wasn't as if it could understand what he was saying. Still, he continued sprouting random names to see how they sounded on his tongue; any silly ones he immediately discarded to save himself the embarrassment of calling it at the top of his voice in the middle of a public park.

"Hiroto? Ren? Taro? Hm, that's not too bad." He made a noise with his tongue, and the puppy instantly looked up at attention. Hiding his surprise, Tōshirō questioned the dog. "What about Taro? Ichigo would have liked that."

It barked.

"You like that?" he asked, smiling. He slid off of the chair and settled on the carpet, and the newly-named Taro wandered over to climb into his lap. Despite not being a dog person, and not really wanting to have to look after one, Tōshirō started to pet and tickle his new friend, laughing as it squirmed and whined.

"Ichigo used to hate me tickling him too," he said somewhat sadly, and Taro barked yet again. "He used to give me this adorable look - yeah, like that -" He laughed louder as the puppy stuck his nose into his owner's hand. "Oh god, I hope I find him soon."

Taro barked again, almost agreeing.

"I'll take you to meet him, one day," Tōshirō continued, rubbing behind Taro's floppy ears. "You'll love him - he was so childish sometimes, and he was such a romantic idiot. He always used to make me smile by doing the _stupidest_ things."

Taro whined, pawing at Tōshirō's top desperately. Frowning slightly, the teenager picked the puppy up and lifted him up to eye level. It seemed pleased with this, sticking its pink tongue out as far as possible to lick Tōshirō's face; the expression it made doing so made the boy laugh.

"You're adorable. Ichigo's gonna spoil -"

Another bark.

"...What? Do you need something?"

The dog licked Tōshirō right across his lips, and the teenager spat out in disgust; "Ew, Taro! That's horrid!" He put the puppy down and pushed him away, wiping his mouth on the edge of his shirt. Taro just sat there and watched him, his tail starting to wag. "Don't look at me like that, stupid," Tōshirō grumbled, wondering how something so cute could do something so disgusting. "I'm mad at you - don't look at me like that!"

It was unavoidable. He just couldn't stay angry at the happy-go-lucky puppy that reminded him far too much of his husband, especially when it was looking at him like one would regard a chocolate doughnut or something else just as desirable. "I said stop looking at me like that; you honestly act like Ichigo used to when you -"

Taro barked, thumped his tail on the carpet yet again, and then nodded his head.

_Nodded his head._

"No," gasped Tōshirō, his mouth dropping open as his eyes widened at the sight of his new puppy watching him much too closely for the likes of a simple-minded animal. "No - you - _no_. You _have_ to be _joking_. Ichigo this - _this isn't_**_fair_**_!_"

He had spent _years_ looking for his husband. He had a checklist of every single person at his school so that he could cross them off when they proved to not be the man he was looking for. He had stayed open minded about his search - boys, girls, adults, babies! Just because Ichigo had been a male in his previous life, there was no guarantee that he was going to be male in his next life, but this -_this_ Tōshirō hadn't even _considered_.

Taro slumped to the floor, his head resting on his paws, and gave him a look that clearly said, 'Well it isn't my fault now, is it?'

* * *

**End Note:** I had so much fun writing this :) Thank you so much for reading. Please review!


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